


Waiting on Cas

by DarkHeartInTheSky



Category: Supernatural
Genre: #BringCasHome2017, Angst, Brainwashed Castiel, Gen, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt No Comfort, Phone Calls, Post-Episode: s12e19 The Future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-03
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-27 20:12:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10815888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkHeartInTheSky/pseuds/DarkHeartInTheSky
Summary: Dean doesn't expect his phone call to be answered. He knows it's a terrible idea, but he has to try anyway.





	Waiting on Cas

**Author's Note:**

> is anyone else still crying about the episode? I wasn't sure if I wanted to post this, but after getting the promo for 12.20, I felt it needed to be done.

Dean stared at his cell phone. His heart pounded in his chest. He didn’t want to make the call; if he heard that horrible voicemail message again, he might actually go insane.

                But not knowing was also slowly driving him insane too. Somehow, Cas had figured out how to uninstall the tracking app Sam slipped onto his phone, and Dean couldn’t find any sighting of Cas’s shitty pickup, and it had been two days already. Dean didn’t know where Cas was, or what had happened. He was still shaking from what happened back at the Heaven Gate; Cas’s eyes had been _yellow_. And, then he set Dagon _on fire_. He hadn’t been strong enough to take out Ramiel like he could any other demon. Dagon was a Prince of Hell—almost as powerful as Lucifer. And Cas had taken her out like she was nothing.

                Dean frowned and rubbed at his neck. He still had a kink that hadn’t worked itself out yet. He wanted to be pissed at Cas for knocking them out like that, but he couldn’t because Dean wasn’t even sure if it was Cas. Or at least all of Cas. Cas was a strange guy at the best of times, but Dean liked to think they were good enough friends that he knew when Cas wasn’t Cas. . .

Then again, he hadn’t noticed when Lucifer was possessing Cas. . .

But, Cas had sounded off, and Dean still couldn’t shake the yellow eyes.

                The only logical solution—the only solution Dean would accept-- was that Cas was now being mind-controlled by the Satan baby.

                Fuck.

                But he just got Cas back. Cas hadn’t even been back one day, and now he was gone again, and he was probably not himself, and Dean had to do _something_.

                Suddenly, Dean had the phone pressed to his ear, and it was ringing. Dean froze. He didn’t remember even hitting any buttons, but he had.

                It rang, and rang, and rang, and Dean’s worry increased with each increment. He was tempted just to end the call, save himself the misery of hearing that stupid voicemail message again, when the ringing stopped.

                Dean’s breath froze.

                “Hi, Dean,” a soft voice said.

                Dean exhaled. It felt like a snake had wormed out of his chest. “Kelly? Are you guys okay? Where’s Cas?”

                “We’re okay,” Kelly said. Her voice was so gentle, so soft, it was painful, like nails on a chalkboard. “We’re all okay now. Castiel is resting.”

                Dean’s brain reeled. They were okay _now_? “Cas is resting?” he exclaimed. “What happened?”

                “Angels found us,” Kelly said. Dean swallowed. He could feel his blood pressure rise exponentially. “Castiel got hurt, but Dean---it happened again.”

                Dean couldn’t respond. _Cas got hurt_ cycled over and over again in his head.

                “The baby saved us again,” Kelly explained. “He lent Castiel his power, and Castiel scared the angels off. I think it took a lot of energy out of the both of them, though. He couldn’t heal Castiel all the way. He’s been resting.”

                “Kelly, listen to me,” Dean pleaded. “You and Cas have to come here. Have Cas take you to the bunker. You’ll be safe here.” He’d take housing Lucifer’s Baby Mama if it meant having Cas home.

                “I can’t do that,” Kelly said, breaking the happy note and twisting it to borderline hysteria. “You’ll either kill my baby, or take his magic away. I can’t let you do that!”

                “There are going to be more angels,” Dean said sternly. “They’re not going to stop coming, not ever, you got it? And the angels will kill you.”

                “They can’t,” Kelly said, the confidence in her voice thick as a wall. “If they could, they would have done it already.”

                Dean’s throat was dry.

                “We’re okay, Dean,” Kelly said. “Castiel has been taking such good care of us. He makes sure we’re feed, have clean clothes, and he always draws baths at the perfect temperature.”

                “Why are you doing this Kelly?” Dean asked, his voice breaking. He couldn’t help himself. His heart was shrouded in worry and pain. He just got Cas back. Cas had almost died, before he got a jump from Baby Satan, and Dean didn’t get a chance to make things right with Cas before he knocked them out and zoomed off again. Why did something always have to take Cas away from him? “Why Cas? He doesn’t deserve this, okay? Let him go. Please, let him come home.”

                “We’re not holding Castiel against his will,” Kelly said. The happiness had returned to her voice. “He’s here because he wants to be here. He’s special too. That’s why the baby chose him.”

                “The baby _chose_ him?”

                Dean could hear Kelly nod. “To raise him. Teach him. Protect him.”

                Dean chortled humorlessly. He was losing his mind, right? He had to be losing his mind. His best friend was being held mentally hostage by Baby Satan. _Fuck his life._ “The baby chose Cas to be his dad?”

                “Yes.”

                “And Cas is on board with this?”

                “He didn’t believe, at first; but then the baby spoke to him at the Heaven Gate, and he knew, like I know.”

                Dean felt like he was going to be sick. “Look, Kelly,” Dean fought to keep his composure. He took a shaky, painful breath. “I’ve known Cas for almost ten years now, and in all that time, I’ve only seen him scared of two things: women, and babies. I am not joking, Kelly, you put that baby in his arms, he _will_ cry.”

                Kelly laughed. “When we were in that hotel room, before you and Sam showed up, the baby started kicking. He didn’t want to at first, but I made him feel. When Castiel’s hand was on my stomach, the baby spoke to me. He told me he wanted Cas to raise him. And as Castiel felt him kick, Castiel began to smile.”

                Kelly paused thoughtfully for a moment. “He has such a sweet smile, doesn’t he?”

                Dean swallowed. He was really, really going to be sick. This lady was crazy. Legitimately crazy. Cas was kidnapped by a cult.

                “Please,” Dean said, sobs ripping at his throat. “Please, Kelly, let him come home. You can keep your baby, we won’t bother you, I swear, just let Cas come home, you don’t know the sort of things he’s been through, okay? He’s. . . He’s not in a good state of mind right now. He’s vulnerable. He’s sick.”

                “I know better than you think,” Kelly said. “Castiel and I have been getting to know one another very well. We’re not all that different.”

                “Yeah?” Dean huffed. Hot tears raced down his face now, and he was grateful Kelly couldn’t see how pathetic he was. “Yeah, you guys painting each other’s toe nails and swapping bad boyfriend stories now, is that it?”

                Kelly’s silent was heavy.

                “Castiel understands me in a way no one else can. And, I think I understand him in a way not even you can understand.”

                “I doubt that. What can you and he possibly have in common?”

                “We were both used by Lucifer.”

                Dean’s mouth grew dry as a desert. He felt like he’d been slapped in the face, and his teeth were knocked loose. He realized in that moment, they never really _talked_ about the whole Cas being possessed by Lucifer thing. He thought back to the beer run he took Cas on, where he tried to talk about it—and chickened out. Cas’s face in that instance was still seared in his memory. “I want to talk to him,” Dean said.

                Kelly sighed. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea—“

                “Put him on the damn phone, _now_.”

                There was some shuffling. Dean could hear Kelly speaking softly, murmuring in a motherly voice, and then the phone was being passed around.

                “Hello, Dean,” Cas’s voice came on, and relief cascaded down Dean’s spine. He pressed his hand against his head and inhaled shakily. His lungs felt like they were full of ice.

                “Hey, Cas,” Dean said. “You okay? Kelly said. . . She said you guys had some trouble.”

                “Yes, but it’s been taken care of,” Cas said. “I feel better than I have in a long time.”

                “Cas,” Dean’s voice cracked, “Cas you gotta come home, man.”

                “I can’t do that, Dean. I’m sorry. I have to protect this baby. It’s my duty to guard him, and I. . . I can’t trust that you and Sam won’t hurt him.”

                Dean bit his knuckles. “That is not your job.”

                “But it is,” Cas said. “I have a mission again. He chose me, Dean. Out of everybody in the Universe, this child chose _me_ to protect him.”

                Dean hated the tone in Cas’s voice. It was hopeful, wistful, happier than Dean had probably ever heard Cas, and he hated it because it was all built on false pretenses.

                “Listen to me,” Dean said slowly. “For once, just _once,_ will you please listen to me? This kid is rotting your brain Cas, I’m sorry, but don’t you see you’re being played? You’re being duped.”

                “No,” Cas said; there was nothing in his voice. No anger, no resentment, no hate—but no happiness, no joy, either. It was robotic, monotonous. “No, I don’t think I am. Not this time. He spoke to me, Dean. He showed me what he can do for this World.”

                Dean’s nose ran. He wiped the snot on his sleeve. His face was flushed and his cheeks were sticky with tears.

                “I get it, man, I do. You feel bad about what happened to Lily’s kid, but this is not the same and you know it. You didn’t know about Lily’s kid. That wasn’t your fault---this kid, though—“

                “Is going to save the World,” Cas sighed. “And I am going to help. I understand now, Dean. I’m a helper, not a hero,” Dean’s chest seized at the words and he banged his fist against the table. “That is my part to play. I accept it now. This child will do. . . incredible things and I get to be the one to teach him. Isn’t that wonderful, Dean?”

                “It’s doing something to you, Cas, screwing with your head. Please come home. Please. I’m sorry for getting angry with you. Come home.”

                “I want to,” Cas said. “I don’t enjoy fighting with you. I want to come home and be with you and Sam.”

                “Then do it.”

                “I can’t. The baby needs me. You want to hurt him.”

                “This is Lucifer’s kid we’re talking about, Cas, not a Cabbage Patch doll.”

                “You taught me about free will, Dean. It applies to everyone, even angels. Shouldn’t it then apply to this child as well? Shouldn’t he have a chance to prove himself good, instead of being condemned for his heritage?”

                Dean could feel himself losing Cas—it was like holding a running dog on the leash. The leash was slipping out of his grip, burning his palms.

                “Kelly is letting me help with the name,” Cas said. Dean could hear the smile in his voice. “Isn’t that wonderful?”

                “Don’t do this to yourself, man,” Dean pleaded.

                “Something with ‘George’, after her father. What do you think?”

                “I think you need to get your head screwed on right and come home. C’mon, Cas, fight it! You’ve done it before. I know you can do it again. Fight it. Please.”

                “One day you’ll understand,” Cas said. “And when you do, I hope we can be reunited. I want the baby to know you and Sam; you are the greatest men I’ve ever known.”

                “Cas, you’re breaking my heart.” Cas’s yellow eyes flashed again in his mind.

                “I’m sorry, Dean. I can’t. . . I can’t risk you hurting him. He’s. . . He’s my son.”

                Dean felt like Cas had taken a nail gun right to his head. He felt his heart crack right down the middle.

                “Why,” Dean gasped for breath, “why didn’t you ever talk to me about Lucifer? About what he did to you? What did he do to you, Cas, and how come you never told me?” Maybe if Dean had been more observant. . . maybe if he’d been bothered to ask Cas a simple personal question every now and then. Was he so wrapped around his mom coming back that he neglected his best friend, _again_? God, he had to be the largest dick in existence. What right did he have to bitch at Cas for going radio silent, when Dean shut Cas down every time he tried to open up, or just flat out ignored him?

                Cas was quiet on the other end for a moment. “At first, there wasn’t time. I thought you were going to die to defeat Amara, and I didn’t want to burden you; then, we had to rescue Sam, and you were still struggling to connect with your mother.”

                “And after that?” Dean had to peel his lips apart to speak.

                “There wasn’t a point,” Cas said. “It was done. There were bigger matters to attend to. It was more important that Lucifer was put back in the Cage than I tell you.”

                Dean bit his lip. “You know you can tell me anything, right Cas?”

                “I know,” Cas said gently.

                Dean was the world’s worst friend. He had ignored Cas’s needs, his feelings, once more, and once more, he had driven Cas away, and given an insidious force the opportunity to steal Cas away. There was nothing he could do to convince Cas to come home—that realization hurt as bad as Hell had. Only this time, there was nothing Dean could do to stop the pain. He couldn’t say ‘yes’ to anyone to take up the knife and stop it hurting. He was helpless. He couldn’t save Cas. Cas would need to do it on his own. That was the worst feeling ever. There was nothing Dean could do to save his friend.

                “Do you trust me, Dean?” Cas asked.

                Dean swallowed a golf ball sized lump. He had to trust that Cas would break whatever control this Nephilim had over him. Cas always came back, especially when it seemed like the odds were against his favor. He was stubborn, and crafty, and tougher than any opponent ever gave him credit, and he always came back. Sometimes took longer than others, but he always came back.

                Dean had to trust that. If he didn’t, he would lose his goddamn mind. He barely made it through last year, with Lucifer parading around inside Cas’s vessel. If. . . if Cas didn’t make it through this, Dean didn’t think he could survive.

                He had to trust Cas would make it through this too, and come back to him.

                “I do,” Dean said quietly. He couldn’t risk pushing Cas away, not now. It was a miracle he even got this phone conversation right now. He could be stuck with the radio silence he suffered these last few weeks. This was better than that. Mind-controlled Cas was better than silent, are you dead or alive Cas. “I trust you, Castiel.”

                “Thank you, Dean. You won’t be disappointed. Not this time. I. . . I’m going to make you proud this time. I promise.”

                Dean’s chest shuddered.

                “Call me,” Dean said. “You have to call me. Every day. To let me know you’re okay. Promise me that, Cas.”

                “I promise.”

                They had a little less than a month before Kelly popped, and their world probably turned to a burnt sandbox. Cas was a puppet again, and Dean could only hope that Cas could come through it on his own, like he always does.

                “Dean,” Cas said.

                Dean’s throat was as dry as sandpaper. He was barely fighting the urge to vomit. It was taking everything in his will power to hold onto it.

                “Yeah, buddy?” Dean said.

                “I’m going to be a dad,” Cas said. The joy in his voice hurt Dean; it was like someone had taken a sledgehammer to every one of his bones.

                “I know,” Dean said. “You’ll. . . You’ll be great.”

                “You think so?”

                “Yeah,” Dean said, voice cracking. “You’ll be a better dad than your deadbeat dad, that’s for sure.”

                He could hear the smile in Cas’s voice. Dean fought to stop from crying.

                “You better call me tomorrow,” Dean said and he looked up to the ceiling.

                “Of course,” Cas said, and then Dean was met with the dial tone.

                That night, Dean drank until he vomited, and he passed out in the bathtub.

**Author's Note:**

> be my friend on tumblr! i'm darkheartinthesky over there as well.


End file.
